


Portrait

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:23:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: Your betrothed, Samuel Winchester, is beautiful in his portraits.  He’s even more beautiful in real life.





	Portrait

_[Inspiration Image](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fkleinmeli.deviantart.com%2Fart%2FSPN-Jared-Padalecki-210881634&t=NDZjYTgyNWVlOWMwOTkyMzViY2MwZWViZGQyOWI5NjAxYWJmOGVkYSxhOVE0QWNFQg%3D%3D&b=t%3ATBB28Mk-OlOvilVc6dAilQ&p=http%3A%2F%2Fjust-another-busy-fangirl.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F158711236648%2Fportrait&m=1) _

Samuel Winchester.

The name had been familiar to you for your entire life, but you had never met the boy, or man, you should say.  

Y/N Winchester.

That’s what your name would be, once you turned 21 and you married Samuel Winchester.

Winchester wasn’t all that bad of a name, and it sure as hell was better than your current last name. And you supposed you were lucky – many of your friends were forced to marry men that were much older, much uglier, or much more gross in general than this Samuel Winchester.

You had seen paintings of him all your life, his family sending portraits to yours and vice versa, so that it wouldn’t be a complete surprise when you finally met.  Your kingdoms were far enough away that neither of your families had traveled for visits, only communicating through messengers.

And portraits.

You actually enjoyed looking at portraits of Samuel Winchester.  He had nice brown hair, was not fat, and was drawn with dimples.  You always liked people with dimples, they seemed friendlier than people without dimples.

You wished you had dimples, like Samuel Winchester’s dimples.

You hoped the portraits weren’t lying to you, and that Samuel Winchester had real-life dimples, not just ones that were added to a painting to make him look friendlier.

One week before your 21st birthday, the same day that would serve as your wedding day, you were lined up in front of your home with all of your family members, ready to meet your betrothed.

Your siblings, all younger than you, were very excited.  You were very excited as well, but your stomach was also doing acrobatics and you felt as if you were going to throw up.  It was definitely a nervous-excited, not just an excited-excited.

What was Samuel Winchester actually going to be like?  Would he be nice?  Would he be smart?  Would he be interested in getting to know you, or was he just following orders in marrying you?

You’d find out soon enough, you supposed.

You had almost gotten impatient enough to go back inside the house when you finally heard the horses. Their hooves clip-clopped on the cobblestones, and your heartbeat rivaled them in volume.  You were sure your family could hear the beating over the horses, but perhaps that was just the pounding in your ears.

And then you saw them.

There were ten or so in the party, some guardsmen and a few men dressed in finer clothing.  You couldn’t make out any of their faces, their riding hats and scarves blocking your view.  You stood completely still, observing as your father’s men helped the Winchesters from their horses.  Once the men had all gotten to the ground, a softer and slower clip-clop came into your view: two horses dragging a carriage behind.  

The Winchester party moved immediately to the carriage, the door opening and allowing the ladies of the house out.

Finally, after what seemed like years of waiting, your father approached the group, welcoming them warmly.  The men shook hands, your father kissed the cheeks of the women, and then he began introducing your family.

Mother was first, then the children beginning with the youngest.  The whole time you were waiting, your eyes were observing the group, having found Samuel Winchester from afar.  You recognized his face from the portraits you had seen all your life. He was older now, of course.  He was incredibly tall, taller than you would have ever imagined from the portraits.  His hair framed his face nicely, even after being under a hat for the ride in.  You were still observing him when finally your father was introducing you, and you curtsied deeply toward the head of their household, Samuel Winchester’s father, before his mother pulled you up from your low position.

She grabbed both of your hands between hers, smiling richly at you.  “My dear, I cannot wait to get to know the beautiful girl my son is marrying. I have heard only wonderful things.”

You blushed at her openness and generosity, eyes downcast.  “Thank you, milady,” you replied properly, pulling a giggle from her. She turned, keeping your hands in one of hers as she reached out to the man behind her.

Samuel Winchester reached for his mother’s hand, and she brought yours together.

You were now only feet away from him, hands forcibly holding each others.  His were warm and calloused against yours, and you were entranced with how large they were in comparison before he cleared his throat.

You finally looked up into his eyes and your breath caught in his throat.  No painting, no portrait of any kind, could have prepared you for the magnificence that was standing before you.

How lucky you were to be marrying Samuel Winchester, Adonis and personification of all that is handsome.

He brought your hands up to his lips, brushing your knuckles in a kiss.  “It is wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N.  You are more beautiful than I could have ever dreamed.”

“As are you,” left your lips before you could stop yourself.  Both Samuel Winchester and his mother heard, and chuckled softly as you blushed even more than before.

Unfortunately, your father interrupted your moment, inviting everyone into the house to clean up before dinner.  Samuel Winchester’s hands dropped yours, but only for a moment.  His arm was quickly offered to escort you into your house, and your heart lept as you tucked your hand into his elbow.

A gentlemen, a charmer, and the face of a Greek god.  This is the man you were betrothed to.  How lucky you were.


End file.
